


Couldn’t quite conceive of you (can’t conceive of ever leaving you)

by purplespacemom



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, pre-season 3: episode 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 17:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15175946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplespacemom/pseuds/purplespacemom
Summary: Kolivan is thrown into rut while on the castleship. Lance has no idea what that means but doesn’t have a problem with it.





	Couldn’t quite conceive of you (can’t conceive of ever leaving you)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Hexworthy for the beta! This was inspired by tumblr user wajjs’s abo Kolivance fic (https://wajjs.tumblr.com/post/175420051709/im-the-anon-who-said-49-i-meant-to-type-40-but) and the way the Kolivance discord server loses their collective minds in the nsfw chat on an almost nightly basis. Good stuff!!

The scent lingered in the castleship’s halls, potent enough to draw even Kolivan’s attention. He found himself following it, dazed, for an entire dobash before catching himself. He shook his head, disgusted with himself. Who was he to behave like a juvenile alpha?

“Leader.” Antok caught him off guard, appearing behind Kolivan. He had one hand outstretched, hovering in mid air.

“The meeting,” Kolivan said brusquely, ending the conversation before it began. “The Paladins are waiting.”

Antok’s silence spoke volumes. Nevertheless, he stepped back and allowed Kolivan to lead the way. Antok remained at a respectable distance the entire walk to the control room and only sat down after Kolivan. The care he took to not tread on Kolivan’s nerves only served to rile him further, fraying his self control. The instinct to bare his teeth at his brother in arms was strong, _too_ strong to be natural. As a rule, Kolivan didn’t follow his instincts, letting the aggressive urges appear and then run down his back like water. He was master of his own mind.

Until now, apparently.

The princess had the floor when Antok’s silence broke. Subtle and without moving any other part of his body, Antok used his tail to tap in code _what ails you?_

Kolivan frowned behind his mask. Nothing ailed him. Or rather, nothing ought to be ailing him. Barely moving, Kolivan tapped on claw against Antok’s tail: _focus._

Antok huffed and jabbed Kolivan with the tip of his tail, losing all sense of decorum. 

“Unfortunately,” Princess Allura’s voice cut across any retaliation on Kolivan’s part, “two of my paladins have just left on a scouting mission. Green and Blue are particularly skilled at stealth, so I’d like to have them in on this. They should be back in the morning. If you can spare the time, I would be pleased to provide rooms and food while you wait. We can reconvene then.”

Antok said nothing, tilting his head toward Kolivan, deferring to his answer.

“We will wait,” Kolivan agreed. They’d anticipated a delay in coming to the paladins. The humans didn’t seem to follow a schedule. They did as they pleased. Kolivan wasn’t sure how to feel about their laid back attitude.

He and Antok were given rooms near the paladins, presumably for ease of access to common areas on the castleship, but Kolivan saw it for what it was. They would be watched. Even now, the Blade was not fully trusted.

Good. That self preservation would serve the paladins well.

Of more concern to him was Antok’s needless hovering and the way his nose led him, pulling along the fading path of that enticing scent. No Galra smelled that unique. No Blade, certainly. Kolivan knew it wasn’t the princess or her advisor or any of the paladins on board, which left him with the Green or Blue paladins. Either option didn’t sit well with him, though he would admit to working well with the Blue Paladin in the past. They had yet to interact outside of missions.

A sharp series of raps sounded on the door: a code used by the Blade. “Enter.”

Antok wasted no time in doing so, his mask gone. “Are you back to normal?”

“I wasn’t aware I’d been abnormal,” Kolivan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Antok’s tail swayed back and forth, slow and low to the ground. “Tell me what happened.” Antok was never one to let go. They knew each other too well.

“I was distracted.” Kolivan hated admitting it aloud. He’d yet to find cameras or any bugs in the room, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. “It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t look distracted,” Antok said. His tail whipped Kolivan about the ankles, playful. “You were posturing.”

“And what reason would I have to do that?” Admitting it felt like losing. He hadn’t postured like that in decaphebes, hadn’t considered _wanting_ to in even longer.

“You tell me.”

And for the first time since his childhood, Kolivan found himself grasping for an excuse, inexplicably shamed by the intensity of his reaction. He needn’t have worried, though, because distraction came in the form of the Blue Paladin.

He strolled right into the room, having apparently deemed knocking unnecessary. “My Blades,” he said, grinning and throwing his arms wide open, “my favorite space ninjas! What’s up? Princess said you guys were hanging around for me and Pidge, and look! Back early! Because we’re awesome, you know?” He pantomimed shooting his rifle before slapping Kolivan on the back. “So what’s up with you guys?”

Kolivan wished he had his mask because he’d been struck dumb by the Blue Paladin’s scent. Muted by the passage of time in the corridor, Kolivan hadn’t been able to drag his attention away without Antok’s intervention. Now, face to face with the full force of the paladin’s scent? Kolivan felt like he was in the throes of his first rut again, young and stupid and without a shred of self control.

Lance’s hand hadn’t moved. Antok was looking between them with an expression eerily reminiscent of Regris after he unwound a particularly tricky piece of code.

“Blue Paladin,” Antok said, breaking the silence. “It’s been some time since we’ve met. Congratulations on your successful mission.” Though he spoke to the Paladin, Antok looked at Kolivan.

“Come on, call me Lance! The weird formal thing is just,” he gesticulated wildly, “ _weird_! But yeah, the mission? Tch, _waste of time._ Another dead end.” He looked genuinely put out by whatever he hadn’t found. 

“Lance,” Kolivan’s mouth moved of its own accord. “You have my sympathies.” His hand rested on Lance’s shoulder, sliding down to his upper arm.

Antok had ceased blinking entirely.

Lance brightened. “You’re a real stand up guy, Kolivan! Say, want a tour of the castle?” After a moment, he added, “You, too, uh…”

“Antok,” his fellow Blade supplied. “I’ll have to decline. Preparations to make.” Antok took a step back toward the door. “Kolivan is not so preoccupied, however. A break would serve him well.”

Lies. Antok believed in working whenever able, the exception being death. Kolivan narrowed his eyes, but the deed was done.

“Awesome!” Lance was looking at him, that enticing smell wafting off him in waves. Kolivan felt drunk with it.

After Antok excused himself, Lance wasted no time in commencing his tour. “Trust me,” he said, giving Kolivan’s bicep a friendly slap. “Allura is all about building strong alliances, so really? This _is_ my job.” His hand didn’t leave Kolivan’s bicep, giving it a firm squeeze. Lance’s eyes went glazed for a moment before he snapped out of it, jerking his hand away as though he’d been burned. “Um. Anyway.”

The heat of his hand remained with Kolivan, coursing through him like fire.

“Building a strong alliance is a worthy endeavor.” His voice was hoarse.

“Yep, totally,” Lance said quickly. “I am all about, you know, bonding.” His face went red and he hurried forward, Kolivan trailing behind him. “So this is the castle.” Lance gestured broadly. 

“It’s antiquated technology,” Kolivan said. “Your defenses should be updated.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Lance insisted, a hand on the wall, “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“I mean no offense.” Kolivan was rapidly losing focus, unable to draw his eyes from the attractive slope of Lance’s neck. He was so distracted, in fact, that he didn’t realize Lance was speaking until he was in Kolivan’s face, waving a hand.

“Man, you were _gone_.” Lance whistled. “Your buddy wasn’t kidding when he said you needed a break.”

“I was distracted,” Kolivan said, unable to maintain a distance between them. He loomed over Lance, sweat beading at the nape of his neck. He should have remained in his room.

“If you say so…” Lance looked skeptical, his brows drawing down together. Then he perked up. “Want to see the lions?”

It was a better option than standing in the corridor and stewing in his own poorly contained lust. “Lead the way.”

“So what’s got you all wound up?” Lance asked, leading Kolivan toward the hangar. “I’ve never seen you this on edge, not even on a mission.”

“It’s nothing,” Kolivan dismissed. “A matter of biology.”

“Biology?” Lance screwed his face up, giving Kolivan a wary look. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Look, man, you’re worrying me. A biology thing? Sounds serious. You need the healing pod?”

Kolivan was prepared to do anything to get out of this disaster of a conversation. “That won’t be necessary,” he assured Lance. “It’s more of a,” he searched for the right word, “a matter of hormones.” Perhaps that would suffice.

“Hormones?” Lance’s face went through a multitude of expressions, finally settling on intrigued. “Is it, like,” he lowered his voice, “a sex thing?”

He could have said no. He could have made something up and Lance would have no reason to question. But Kolivan had apparently lost his mind, because he found himself replying, “Yes.”

And there was that flush again, Lance’s mouth dropping open slightly. He ducked his head, then glanced back at Kolivan. “So you’re, what, in heat?”

“Rut, actually,” Kolivan admitted. “Heats are experienced by omegas.” At Lance’s puzzled expression, he clarified: “childbirthers.”

“So what do you do?” Somehow, they’d made it to the hangar. The lions were the last thing on Kolivan’s mind, not with Lance looking at him like that. “During your pon farr thing, I mean.”

“I’m not familiar with that term.” Kolivan’s hand found its way to Lance’s hip, his thumb rubbing circles under the fabric of his shirt. Lance’s breath hitched. “I haven’t experienced a rut in some time,” Kolivan admitted. “Had I known it was coming, I would have sought out a partner.”

“You weren’t expecting it?” Lance didn’t seem to mind Kolivan’s hand on him.

“It came on suddenly, after I -” Kolivan’s mouth clicked shut. He’d lost his grip on the situation, control a wisp of smoke slipping through his fingers. Lance overwhelmed his senses on all fronts.

“After what?” Lance was closer, their chests nearly touching.

“Your scent,” Kolivan admitted, the words like a breaking dam. “After I caught your scent.”

They moved together, meeting in the middle. Kolivan gave up the fight, unable to keep his hands to himself.

“Holy shit,” Lance whispered as Kolivan hefted him up and buried his face in Lance’s neck, rough tongue laving at the spot where his scent gland would be if he were a Galran omega. Lance’s thighs clamped down on either side of Kolivan’s waist, his hands clawed into Kolivan’s shoulders as though they were the only thing tethering him to reality.

“Why do you smell like that?” Kolivan pressed the words into Lance’s brown skin, frantic with arousal. His canines scraped the soft skin there, and Lance sucked in a breath, squeezing his thighs harder. His cock was hard against Kolivan’s stomach.

“Lotion,” Lance suggested. “That dessert I spilled on my shirt. God, who knows? Just—yes, like that!”

If Kolivan wasn’t careful, he’d pop his knot before he could get inside Lance. He was so hard it hurt, couldn’t remember mating ever being like _this_ \- 

The door behind them gave way, sending them crashing to the ground. Instinct had him cradling Lance’s skull and back, and he meant to ask if he was all right but Lance grabbed his face and dragged it to him, mouths clashing in the middle. Lance kissed with desperation, like he was the one in rut, licking into Kolivan’s mouth, at the sharp edge of his canines, the hard roof of his mouth.

“Your nest,” Kolivan panted, “we need to—“

Lance rested his head on the ground, looking up at Kolivan with bemused fondness. “Sorry, man, I don’t have a nest. But a bed sounds like a good runner up, and as it so happens,” he rutted up against Kolivan’s stomach, swallowing, “I _do_ have one of those.”

Right, Lance was human. He wasn’t bedding down an omega, but shifting gears mid-rut was difficult to do. Kolivan’s instincts went haywire, the urge to box Lance in, to cover his body and fuck him open, breed him full - Kolivan could no more ignore that part of his mind than he could change the color of skin. 

They were in the corridor outside the hangar. Lance shoved at Kolivan’s chest until he obliged, rolling to his side to let Lance slide out from under him and crawl to his feet. His neck was an angry line of teeth and sucked bruises, his shirt rucked up. Lance didn’t bother trying to hide what they were up to; he gestured for Kolivan to follow before sauntering off.

Kolivan followed like a starving animal, swaying on his feet. Tunnel vision narrowed his focus to Lance, to the broad cut of his shoulders and the narrow, long lines of his body. Kolivan’s mind went into a frenzy, supplying image after image of Lance on his back, his knees, covered in Kolivan’s come, with a stomach swollen. Kolivan could feel his canines protruding, his senses sharpening further. He knew without question he’d kill any interruption and fuck Lance in the spilled blood if it came to it.

“You’re quiet,” Lance said. He reached back and grabbed Kolivan’s wrist. “Come on, hurry. My room is just down here.”

Kolivan crowded Lance, herding him into the room and slamming his hand on the pad to lock the door once they stumbled inside, all hands and mouths, grasping and biting. Kolivan didn’t let up until Lance tumbled backward into the bed, clawed fingers trembling as he went for Lance’s belt and zip.

“Let me,” Lance interrupted, easing Kolivan away to undress himself. “This is my favorite pair,” he explained. “Can’t have you hulking out on them. Who knows when we’ll make it back to the space mall?”

Hulking out? Space mall? Lance spoke the Common Language but it was gibberish for all Kolivan understood. “Just get them off.” He couldn’t hide his impatience, and he felt shamed at the way Lance’s eyes widened, his hands fumbling.

But then Lance’s eyes darkened, pupils blown. “ _Yes_ ,” he hissed, jerking his pants open and shimmying out of them, still caged in by Kolivan’s body. He fumbled his way out of the rest of his clothes until he lay bare beneath Kolivan, a red flush bleeding from his face down to his chest. Kolivan loved the sight of it, couldn’t stop himself from bending down and running his tongue along the groove above Lance’s collarbone, down to the sparsely haired dip in his chest.

Lance found his braid, gripping it tight in one hand while the other cupped the back of Kolivan’s head . “Your teeth,” he gasped, “use your teeth!”

Nipping at the soft skin of his chest, Kolivan kept his eyes trained on the rapid beat of Lance’s pulse, the way it made the juncture of his neck jump. He left a mark, dragging his gaze down to it, a wave of possessive satisfaction crashing over him.

Lance’s foot stroked the back of Kolivan’s leg, tensing as he rolled his hips, letting out staccato _ah, ah, ah_ ’s. He worked his hands between them and felt blindly for the opening in Kolivan’s suit, jerking at the catch in frustration when he couldn’t get it open. Kolivan shifted back, leaning his weight on one arm to help Lance. He got his pants open, and Lance wasted no time in pulling his cock out, giving it a squeeze.

“Fuck, you’re _enormous_ ,” Lance breathed, taking in the length of him with hungry eyes, fondling the deep blue ridges and trailing his hands down to his swelling knot. “You need to get that thing in me, like, _yesterday_.”

The images assaulting his mind earlier hit him again, a relentless barrage. He could have this. Kolivan could have Lance, could fuck him any way he wanted, and Lance would only ask for more.

“Get on your knees.” Kolivan sat back on his calves, watching Lance, who didn’t miss a beat. He scrambled up and around, dropping onto his forearm and knees, spreading his legs wide. He looked at Kolivan over his shoulder as one hand fumbled beneath his pillow. 

“Here,” Lance shoved a small jar at him. “This is all I’ve got.”

It took Kolivan a few ticks to catch his meaning. The contents of the jar, some kind of lotion, were meant to serve as lubricant. Lance wouldn’t slick up himself. He reached out with his thumb and pressed it into the cleft of his ass, feeling the dry opening there. He pressed harder until it gave beneath the pressure before he pulled back. Lance said nothing, continuing to watch him from over his shoulder with bright blue eyes, his lip caught between his teeth.

Kolivan opened the jar and sniffed it before setting aside. Lance frowned and started to sit up, but Kolivan pressed down between his shoulders, holding him in place. “Don’t move.”

Lance moaned, wiggling his hips backward. “I’m not convinced this isn’t a really elaborate wet dream.” His words were slurred. “Hurry up. I’m dying here!”

The Blade uniform was made to go on and off with ease. Kolivan quickly unfastened the hidden catches on the top and pulled it off, tossing it aside. Lance tried to sit up again, reaching back to touch him, but Kolivan’s hand returned to the nape of his neck, holding him down. “Stay.”

Lance buried his face in his arms, keening. Kolivan knelt begins him, scooping one finger in the lotion and sliding it into Lance without warning. Lance jolted up onto his hands, cursing. His feet arched, toes tensing. 

“Another one,” Lance demanded, clenching down around Kolivan’s finger. Kolivan was careful to keep his claws retracted as he obeyed, fucking another finger into Lance, opening him up. Lance’s legs kept spreading wider, his ass humping back. He reached blindly behind himself, grabbing Kolivan’s wrist and walking his fingers up his hand, toward hi slick fingers. 

“Good,” Lance mumbled, feeling at the edges of his hole, playing with his rim. “More, you need to—“ Impatience overtook Lance. He slid one of his own fingers in alongside Kolivan’s his hole spasming around them.

“Greedy,” Kolivan rumbled, pulling Lance’s hand away and directing it back to the bad. “Am I not enough?”

Lance drooled onto the bed, panting with his mouth open. “S’good, so good—“ His eyes were glazed, as though he was the one in heat, lost in pleasure. 

Kolivan spread his fingers wide, eyes intent on Lance, on how loose and wet he’d become. Another scoop of lotion, then Kolivan was slicking himself and lining up his cock. Lance bore down on the feel of his tip, his hole clenching on nothing.

“Ask for it.” Kolivan watched the blush spread to the tips of Lance’s ears. Blushing, as he understood it, was a sign of embarrassment, even shame. Kolivan refused to believe Lance had a drop of either in his entire body. 

“Put it in me,” Lance begged, pushing back. “Your cock, Kolivan, get it in me, come on, I’ll do anything—“ He broke off into a sharp gasp as Kolivan rolled his hips forward, sinking half his cock into Lance. The hand resting at his nape slid down to the small of his back, rubbing soothingly as Kolivan worked himself inside in small back and forth rolls of his hips. Lance spasmed around him, face still buried in his arms. When Kolivan finally hit to the beginning of his still swelling knot, he paused, taking in the sight of Lance: trembling from head to toe, hips tilted up to welcome him in, the outline of his face against his arm, lips moving a constant, silent stream of pleas. Kolivan has never wanted anyone as he wanted Lance.

“Is it what you wanted?” He didn’t know why he asked. But the question eased the tense line of Lance’s shoulder, made him look back at Kolivan with a dazed grin.

“Almost,” Lance said, clenching down on the cock spearing him open. “But I could do without the break. I’m not too much for you, am I?”

That stoked the fire kindling in Kolivan’s center. He pulled out nearly to the head of his cock before slamming it home again, drawing a sharp sound from Lance, one that he would hear in his mind for a long time to come. He didn’t slow, fucking into Lance over and over, leaning over his body until chest rested just above Lance’s back. Lance’s stuttered and incoherent moans mingled with the sloppy wet sound of Kolivan’s cock fucking into him, obscenely loud in the quiet of his quarters. 

He reached under Lance, grabbing his cock and pumping it in time with his hips, and Lance lost the ability to hold himself up, falling onto his chest. His eyes squeezed shut, head resting to the side. “Please,” he whispered, repeating it. “I’m going to come, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, _please_ —“ Kolivan ground into him, the edge of his knot catching on Lance’s rim.

“Can I?” Kolivan panted against Lance’s shoulder, grinding into him. He needed to get inside, _all_ the way inside, the desire a physical force urging him on. 

Lance didn’t open his eyes. “Put it in, all the way in.” His voice was dreamy. “Want to feel it in my throat.”

One last grind, and Kolivan’s knot popped through the resistance of Lance’s hole, locking him in, almost knocking the air out of him. He came without warning, a flood of wet warmth inside Lance. Lance fucked back onto his knot, letting out tiny punched out noises, thighs trembling as he came, his cock jerking in Kolivan’s fist.

Drained, Kolivan released Lance’s cock, pressing a hand to his stomach to hold him in place as he turned on side, laying them down, locked together. For a moment it seemed like Lance wasn’t breathing, but then he let out a huffing laugh, running a hand down Kolivan’s arm and resting it over Kolivan’s where it remained against his stomach.

“I can still feel you,” Lance said, shifting against his knot. “You’re still coming.” He trembled.

“It won’t stop for a while.” Kolivan rubbed his belly, hoping to soothe him. “Perhaps another ten dobashes.”

“You’re going to owe me a _serious_ bath,” was all Lance had to say about that. “So is that it? For your weird Galra sex thing. Is it over after this?” He sounded faint, though his hips were still working back on Kolivan’s knot, as though he was caught between sleep and the desire for sex.

“Yes.” There was no reason why it wouldn’t be. An alpha’s rut was a temporary state, easy to remedy.

Lance was silent for a time, long enough that Kolivan assumes he’d fallen asleep. But as his knot finally began to soften, Lance’s hand tended over Kolivan’s. “In the morning,” he began. Kolivan stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “Are you still going to respect me?”

Kolivan spent enough time around Lance to know that was meant to be a joke. But at the same time, there was something sincere in his words, a note of anxiety from some very real fear. He tightened his grip on Lance, unsure of how to satisfy this particular insecurity. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said at last, and Lance burst into laughter, his head falling back so he could see Kolivan’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Lance said, solemn. “I still think you’re a nice girl.”

Bewildered, but fond, Kolivan allowed Lance to fool around with his braid until his grasp on it went slack, his face soft with sleep. In the morning, he would reassure Antok that that which ailed him was soothed.


End file.
